Pure
by Sprinkes
Summary: Seren has lived a long time on the mortal Earthly plane, and so has Eric Northman. So when the fates decide to throw them together there is no guarantees what will happen. Rated for all the things that we love about True Blood: Sex, drugs, and violence.
1. Chapter 1

_Seren_

Born from a moon pebble dusted by the stars and the pure water of an untouched stream, Seren was left in the pool of water, giggling and moving her small hands to splash in the water until a Nymph found her and nursed her like a mother. A year after her appearance in the stream Seren was whisked away from the Earth again, the year there was 1168, and it would be twenty more until she returned.

Her people where watchers, immortal on the earthly plane, they enjoy decades or centuries here until they wish to return and age until death. On their plane she grew and learned of her powers, how to wield them for protection, she watched the other creatures on Earth from her classroom, watches fae and nymph dance around trees and have sex with humans, and others of their kind. She saw vampires being made and destroyed, werewolves form a pack, witches heal with glowing hands, she even watched one of her own—banished-Xana replace a human child with her own.

In 1187 she returned to her stream, and began to watch. She learned languages and dances, admired warriors and queens, saw death and war, felt loss and love and hate. After almost 1000 years, Seren has decided to join a friend in Louisiana for the time being. She needed some down time, and small towns were always her favorite to watch. So much drama in such a little space.

Picking up her cell phone as she turned off the ignition of her black SUV, Seren dialed her friend Alys' number. She had bought the land when her friend began calling her and asking her stay near her for a while, and had the house renovated in preparation. Fixing the house was necessary, it had laid abandoned for many years, but she bought it because she because she would own a piece of land with woods and a small stream.

When the quarter nymph answered her phone it was in a bright and cheery voice, half singing the words "hello Ren".

"I have just arrived, and will be unlocking my door in a few moments, and do you know what awaits me once I do that, Alys?" Seren's voice was velvet smooth and had the hard edge of an ancient tongue that clashed with how old she looked.

"No, what would that be?" The voice on the other end of the phone was that masked in false innocence.

"That would be boxes, and I would hope I could have some help?"

"Only if you promise to come out with me tonight."

Seren rolled her eyes at her friend's tone while she unlocked her door and looked at the boxes that were stacked neatly in a far corner, almost all of them marked 'fragile'.

Alys wanted to attend a vampire bar, and not for fun. In small towns and villages over all over the world with close nit vampire-human relationships, they had formed alliances. Donations of blood in exchange for protection from other vampires, for those willing to take part in such a thing. Slowly, it had gained recognition, it worked by keeping random attacks down and accidental deaths were lower, there was a lot of talk about it beings implemented into larger cities in the very near future. With that in mind, Alys would need help choosing the vampire she let bite her.

She was barely nymph, the entire bloodline would most likely never be passed down again, but it was there inside of her, and she had some powers. Nothing noticeable to most, very in tune with nature to the point where she could make plants flourish and a amazing sex appeal when she wished it.

Seren on the other hand had no need for vampiric protection, she was her own. She had, of course, had run ins with vampires over the years, and she took very good care of herself when faced wit the less than friendly ones.

"Of course I will," she replied while throwing her purse on the plastic covered sky blue couch.

"I don't want to be drained," Alys said after a long pause, her voice lowering as if a vampire would hear her, at noon on a Wednesday.

"Then we'll have to find one that's at least two hundred years old. Old enough to control themselves but not old enough to place the scent or taste." Seren didn't want to mention it, but she also thought they would be old enough to stop themselves from the effects that nymph blood had on the undead.

She saw, once, when she was younger a vampire drain a nymph and how it worked like an aphrodisiac on the fanged woman. She had followed her and watched as the vampire almost met the sun in her frenzy to find enough release.

"You'll help?"

"Only if you get moving"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes" They said their farewells and Seren opened the first box on her floor, and started unwrapping small ancient items and placing them on her mantel.

Her people liked treasure, but what humans saw as 'treasure'—a jeweled broach, an old portrait from a well-known and long dead painter—a xana saw as memories. Some items where hers, originally, others she had found amongst battlefields and she took from places that meant a lot to her.

People wrote off her things as something that was so obviously normal for someone in her profession that it didn't even seem strange to them for her have them. She was once a curator for some of the largest museums in the world, but has since moved into being someone of an expert of artifacts.

Professors, anthropologists, archaeologists all sought her out to identify items, time periods and if the thing was real or not. She had recently been invited to partake in a program that attempted to find vampires and reunite them with personal items. Family crests of long dead lines and things of that nature.

She had only finished with one and half boxes when her door opened and a perky longhaired brunette walked into her house. They hugged, it having been years since they saw each other in person, and each let out high pitched squeals.

After several hours of unpacking and putting away and ripping plastic off of furniture Alys laid on the couch drinking her water and looking at her old friend smiling at a small makeshift doll, smoothing out its hair before placing it on the shelf. "I'm hungry, and we need to get back to my apartment so I can get dressed."

Seren thought about it, she hadn't even been up stairs to unpack any of her clothes yet. "Why don't we go to a restaurant and then go shopping for a few outfit for tonight? Shoes and all?"

She kept things from ever time she had ever lived through, most of which served as elaborate Halloween costumes now, but she had always enjoyed shopping for clothes, and she had noticed Alys' nerves striking her throughout the day and felt that the girl could use some retail therapy.

So they headed out, Seren following Alys, stopped at a restaurant in the center of Shreveport and then walked to various stores around the area, passing the bar a few times on their way.

They got dressed in Alys' apartment, the girl having chosen a royal blue mini dress and matching four inch heels, doing their make up and hair. Seren wore a very simple mini burgundy colored dress and black six-inch heels with silver colored spikes on them.

They had very different body types; Alys was voluptuous with hourglass curves and an impressive bust size that had many a female jealous over her 23 years, while Seren was small, petit even, with soft curves.

Seren had very long hair; it was bright blonde ever so curly and ended, like her dress, on the back of her thighs. She straightened it as best she could and put in a high ponytail, she wasn't going for flashy tonight. Tonight she needed to be there for her friend as she attempts to embark on a mission that could change her life forever.

Seren drove them the two miles to the club where they stood in line for fifteen minutes before they reached the front. Alys had been commenting on how it always amassed her how well Seren walked in, and occasionally ran in, very high heels. Alys' feet where already starting to hurt with the constant standing, but Seren didn't seem to mind at all, waving her hand to her friend and saying "when you've been wearing them as long as I have it's nothing."

The vampire at the door, a woman wearing bright pink latex, eyed them up and down while she took their ID's. She waved them through but followed their movements with her eyes, an attention that Seren didn't fail to notice.

Alys got a cosmopolitan and Seren a cranberry and vodka and they took a seat at an open table near the center of the room. Alys scanned the bar openly and Seren did it in a very subtle manor. "Can I guess an age?" Alys asked, a hint of mischief in her voice.

Seren let out a light laugh and nodded her head, she had, over the years, became rather good at estimating within a hundred years a vampires age by the way they act, by the air that they carry around with them.

Alys was excited; she turned to Seren and nodded to a vampire leaning against the bar, an man of average height with messy black hair and a cocky smile, "uhm, 100?"

Seren laughed again, looking at the man and the way he sniffed the air as humans walked by, subtly, but not completely. "I'd say less than that, but not by much. He isn't completely subtle with his looking yet."

"Well, okay, the one on the throne." Alys said, a little dejected at her friends estimate.

"Okay?" Seren didn't want to look before she gave her guess, didn't want to give anything away with her reaction and make the girl second guess herself.

"He's older then most, obviously. So about 800?" She looked at her friend for conformation, a sweet smile playing on her face.

Seren looked over at the vampire in question, took in his short blonde hair, how he seemed to lord over everything, not just the bar, and his height. She couldn't be certain but she thought him over six foot tall, but when she saw his eyes, blue as the ocean should be, she knew.

He looked at her as well, took her in, allowed his eyes to find hers again and when they did she inclined her head a bit as a show of respect and acknowledgement, and without completely looking away responded to her friends guess.

"Alys, I would say that man is much older than you think."

* * *

**I have taken the Myth of the Xana and tweeked it to my own pleasures, wanted to build a character and a myth from the foundation of what I found.**

**Seren means 'Star' in Welsh and her nick name, Ren, means 'Pure' in Swedish . **

**Alys is just another, and older, way of spelling Alice. **

**I have decided to ignore the upcoming season (season 7) and everything that will happen it in unless, once the season, airs I can fit it into my own story. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Eric**

Eric arrived to Fangtasia just thirty minutes after the sun had set, he wasn't looking forward to the coming days. The club was just getting back on its feet after everything that had happened, and he thought that it had something to do with the new 'a human for every vampire and a vampire for every human' initiative that the news had been spouting about lately.

So fangbangers came looking for the vampire who they can be protected by, and vampires came for the same reason they always had: food. He hadn't made it completely out of his car before he noticed that the air in the parking lot smelled sweeter. Like snow and nectar mixed with the scent before the rain. It reminded him of how the world used to smell, before the pollution took over.

He tried to find the source but the area around the club was completely bare of life, so he continued inside and started going through paper work. He was reading company e-mails, some were from vendors, but most of the 200 e-mails where from women and men who wanted one of the Fangtasia vampires to be the one to protect them.

_Dear Mr. Northman, _

They all started very formal, very professional, a few started sounding so professional that he was almost sure they would actually be business inquiries. Then they would dissolve into sales pitch nonsense.

I'm a busty blonde/brunette/red head with –A/B/O blood type and I would love to be your donor. I don't mind sex being part of the job and I don't mind it being rough!

Some sent picture attachments, some didn't. He looked through the pictures, decided he liked a few of the girls, and almost sent a few links to weight loss websites but restrained himself. It wasn't until he was near the end of the new e-mails did something catch his attention.

TO: Eric FROM: Johnathan

Mr. Eric Northman,

I represent the Foundation for Heirloom Recovery, a group that focuses on reuniting vampires with lost heirlooms from their houses, families, tribes, etc. You are registered as being born during the 9th century and we have some artifacts that date back to that time, we where wondering if you would be able to tell us anything about any of them. I have attached some images and descriptions.

Thank You,

Johnathan Thatcher

Eric thought about it for a few minutes before opening the attached file, he hadn't thought about his human family since he had finally killed Russell. It was just one of those things that happens after a few hundred years. They're always there, in the back of his mind, but there have been so many other pressing matters. Now that there isn't a score to settle and revenge to seek, that is.

He started to look through the attachments, some were artifacts from places he wasn't at during that time and wouldn't be able to help them with, but one thing did stick out. A Viking crown from a queen. It was thin woven metal with a black and cracked tear drop jewel raised in the center, a smaller black jewel below it.

Eric stared at it, trying not to get lost in his thoughts and memories of his mother teasing him and his choice of activities. He read the description of the item:

**Viking crown dated back to the early 9****th**** century. Made from gold and opal. Crown is a plated band design. Current Status: Private Owner**

Eric thought for a moment before replying and inquiring further as to who owned this piece of his past and imagined how the crowns would look side by side again. They hadn't been together in over a thousand years, the thought reuniting the two made him smile ever so slightly.

He e-mailed back, asking about the contact information for the owner before he left to ascend his throne.

Humans don't want to be food for the packs of Hepatits V infected vampires and more and more have been coming to the club to try and find a vampire to claim them. Not that it's a bad thing, but sitting on his throne night after night while human after unappetizing human offer themselves to him was starting to get on his nerves.

He texted Pam, kicked a few people off of his little stage, watched one of his dancers and waited for closing time. He was thinking about his human life, how he sat on the throne for only a few years before his new life began.

It wasn't until nearly ten o'clock when things got interesting for him. He smelled the sweet scent he had in the parking lot hours before, before he saw the women it belonged to walk in, another girl next to her. He was struck by how young she looked, having expected the scent to come from someone who was older then the young girl.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye throughout the night, watched her walk with her friend and sip on her drink. He blocked out the noise from the club and focused on the two girls, listening to their conversation.

"…the one on the throne." The brunette said, and he adverted his eyes when she looked at him again, listening to their words.

"Okay?" The sweet smelling one said, as she made it a point to not look in his direction.

"He's older then most, obviously. So, about 800?" He realized that they where guessing vampire ages, and almost chuckled that the under estimate of his age, but he looked up when he felt her eyes on him.

He wanted to smirk at what he saw, finally looking at her full on for the first time. Her hair was long, swung over her shoulder and not stopping until the end of her ponytail sat just in her lap. Her breasts, which where pushed up and showing just enough to make you curious, weren't large, but rather a very nice medium. A perfect handful. He took notice of the size of her heels and thought that without them, she would barely reach his chest.

His eyes caught hers, blue met blue, and she inclined her head as if she knew how to show subtle acts of respect. He didn't break eye contact so she didn't completely either. But he did hear her tell her friend out of the side of her mouth, "Alys, I would say that man is much older than you think."

The brunettes voice cut through his focus when she asked the younger looking woman, "Damn, how much am I off by?"

The blonde turned eyes to his throne, to his hands, to the wall behind him before they settled on his eyes again. She knew, of course, that when a vampire is watching you as intently as he was, you don't look away for long.

She answered her friend though, not even looking over, "I'd say hundreds of years."

Her friend scoffed, and Eric could see the blonde girl wanted to end the conversation. Like she knew that he was listening to every word they spoke with immense intensity. "You know more than that, tell me, Ren." The brunette said, turning her attention to the dance floor.

Ren. Eric moved her name around in his mind and decided with a soft smirk that she was anything but Pure. She had a sense of confidence in the way she moved and spoke that, as he knows, only comes from being very good at what you do. She looked at the men, vampire and human, the same way he looked at the females. Like she could give them everything, or nothing at all.

"Viking, Alys. Go dance, I need water. Remember the rules and we leave in an hour." She stood, and walked to the bar, watching him out of the corner of her eye while he watched her openly.

He noticed how once she got her drink and the contents where hidden behind her long fingers, she very softly dipped the tip of her finger into the liquid. She looked excited and elated when she finally drank, he had never seen a human so excited to be drinking water unless they had been starved before hand.

Another vampire walked to her she watched her friend, who would dance for a song then leave the floor to talk to the blonde, then go back again. "You look to delicious to be here without an escort."

Eric felt himself stiffen, he had already decided that he wanted her, and seeing another vampire near something he had inadvertently claimed was not something he enjoyed. But he was curious to see if her confidence would fail her in the face of it.

"And you sound despite for a meal, I suggest the girl in the corner who is sulking after being rejected by your…" She thought for a moment, her eyes slipping to the throne again, "overlord?" She had a smile on her face but didn't move her head or meet his eyes.

Eric was surprised that she had been paying that much attention to the other people. To the people who approached him, and even more so that she was smart enough not to look at the younger vampire full on like she had done with him.

"Ah," the vampire said, moving his fingers up her arm, "but she doesn't smell as sweet as you."

Eric almost growled, he would be the one to taste her, not this inferior vampire. He texted Pam not to let her leave with anyone without taking his eyes away from the scene.

"Come on," the vampire cooed at her, "let me protect you."

She laughed, a light fluttery sound that hit Eric like a soft breeze off of the ocean. "I need your protection about as much as you need the sun." She placed her glass on the bar and left him, walking away with confidence and not looking back.

Eric would be lying if he said he wasn't pleased.

She went to her friend, took her hand and moved them to the exit saying simply, "You have work in the morning." They where gone, not two hours after they arrived.

* * *

**I want to write these two at a time, so if it takes a while to update you are aware why. Also, as a fair warning, I am in the middle of packing so I can move in with my boyfriend and once that happens I'm not sure when I will have a reliable internet collection to update, but that isn't for weeks. **


	3. Chapter 3

_Seren_

Seren started the next day by staying under her waterfall shower head until the water ran cold and she had been long clean. When she was dressed in torn jeans and an old t-shirt she had brought she began unpacking her upstairs. She unpacked her dressing room first, it was the room next to the master, where she had had the wall connecting the original walk in closet torn down. She hung rods on the walls before placing her dresses, pants, and shirts upon them. In the closet of the room she placed her clothes from the previous lives.

In the walkway from the master bedroom to the dressing room she had set up her vanity and mirrors. She organized the make up that had fallen out of its cubbies and displayed the jewelry she wore most often. She was almost done unpacking her room when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

"Hello?" She answered while placing a panting of herself from when she was a lady in waiting.

"Miss. West?" Johnathan Thatcher was a chubby, balding man who happened to snag a job as a glorified secretary for the Heirloom Recovery company she had begun helping with. She offered up some of her older trinkets that didn't have enough memories to be on display and her knowledge of how to recognize and find objects.

"Yes, Mr. Thatcher?" Seren rolled her eyes, the man had been increasingly polite to her ever since he had been fired from the museum he once worked for as an accountant.

"I sent out e-mails on Monday to some of the older vampires with a list of items in your possession." She waited for him to continue talking while she moved to her office to begin unpacking it and when it became obvious he wasn't going to without her speaking again, she said a simple 'and?'.

"The necklace, a vampire got back to me saying that it was from their village, not their own, and that we should add that it was worn by a wealthy woman. Another inquired about the owner of the crown and asked for contact information."

Seren thought about it, and after a few minutes responded to him, "Set up a meeting for next week, but tell them that they'll be meeting with someone who represents the owner of the item." They talked about her schedule, what files where to be sent to her, deadlines she had to make and other mundane things until they said goodbye.

She worked on putting her books on the bookcases that where lined against the wall, not hard considering she had packed them herself so they would be in the correct order when she went to put them away. Two shelves where taken up by different journals, almost none of them matching and all of them in a strange order. When she starting keeping a diary she had filled up ten before they where caught up to the time. Every important moment, person and creature she had come across laid within the pages.

It took her two more days to finish organizing everything, her calendar included, which left her rather on the side of tense. Many of her meetings had to be moved around because _someone_ scheduled her to have a conference call the same time as her meeting with the vampire looking into the crown. After everything had been sorted out, and they moved the meeting up, Seren spent what few days she tried to take off she could.

Monday afternoon had Seren getting dressed in business appropriate attire, something that she loathed doing. She did her hair in a French braid and put on a lavender silk blouse with ruffles down the front over a black camisole and a black knee length pencil skirt, ending with her usual six-inch heels in a basic nude.

She had barely started entering the address into the GPS after she collected all the necessary files and photographs when she realized where she was going. She felt nervous, worried even, about seeing the Viking again. Maybe a little bit excited.

She was used to men staring at her, she'd have to be after 947 years, but the way he watched her was heated in a way that she hadn't felt before. She didn't tell Alys about how she had a staring contest with the vampire, or that she continued to feel his gaze long after she had moved away from their seats.

But she refused to let him know that she was nervous and after the thirty minute drive she parked her car next to a black mustang and with her heels clicking against the asphalt, and her breathing even enough to pass for normal, she made her way into the den. One door was unlocked and when she walked through it she was almost immediately face to face with the younger vampire women from the week before.

"We're closed, sugar." Her voice was dull and her face looked bored beyond compare.

"I have a meeting with Mr. Northman, I represent a privet owner of an item that he is interested in." Seren could see that this woman wasn't simply a loyal employee, a lover or a progeny, maybe?

"Follow me." The woman's own heels clicked against the floor and echoed through the open and empty club. They went next to the bar and through a door that said "Employees Only" etched into the wood and down a small hallway before they reached another, closed, door that the vampire opened.

The vampire knocked and after a beat she pushed it open, not waiting for a response, and said "you're meeting is here, _och__hon ser__läcker_." The blonde haired vampire didn't look up from his paperwork, but did stiffen a little when Seren entered the room looking around a little and deciding that she had had meetings in worse places.

**(****och****hon ser****läcker- and she looks delicious)**

"Thank you, Pam." The man said and the women left them, closing the door on her way out, after looking at the women up and down from the back.

Seren moved to the seat in front of his desk but didn't sit and she stood their in silence until he choose to notice her. She had dealt with vampires in business before and knew three very important things. They don't shake hands like humans, don't talk until they acknowledge you to do so, and don't sit until it is offered.

He looked up after a few minutes, a bit of surprise on his face that was quickly covered by a cocky smirk as he motioned to the seat with his hand starting the meeting, "Have a seat Miss…"

"West" She offered, lowering herself and crossing her legs, her bag of folders placed on the floor between them. He looked at her up in down without shame as she moved, and while she noticed she didn't show any signs that she had.

"I would like to purchase the crown from your employer." He stated simply, leaning back in his chair so that the entirety of his black tank top covered upper half was visible to the women.

She nodded and pulled out a folder, "It was assumed as much, Mr. Northman, and my…employer would be more than happy to part ways with it if it is indeed yours." Opening the folder she passed a stapled together set of papers to him, which he accepted after a brief moment. "That is a history of who has owned the crown to our knowledge."

"You where here last week, yes?" He asked while looking over the papers, not looking up to see her reaction, but instead trying to feel a difference in the air of the room but nothing came. She didn't seem to tense up, or look shaken, or even look interested in the fact that he remembered her.

"Yes," she said without any hesitation, "my friend wished to come and asked me to join her."

"It could have been…" he paused, looking at her again, his eyes catching hers "dangerous." He gave a smirk and waited to see if she was scared, or turned on, or really if there was any reaction to the lusty voice he used on the final word.

She did tilt her head to the side, examining him openly for the first time. She let her eyes fall from his and move down his, annoyingly covered, but none the less obviously sculpted chest, she had to stop herself from moving forward to try and get an idea of what laid beyond what was covered by the desk.

When her eyes found his again, she had her own slow smirk gracing her features, "and this isn't, Mr. Northman?" She sounded almost innocent, as if she had never thought that being alone in a closed room with a vampire without True Blood on the shelves for at least another six months was in the least bit hazardous.

"Oh," He said, his smirk deepening and his eyes growing slightly darker, "it most certainly is." She tilted her head again, a few centimeters more this time, her neck exposed to his heated stare.

"My employer mentioned that you are the only vampire still alive that was once a Viking." She wouldn't mention that she knew he was because he just looked like one, or that the way he carried himself just screamed the fact that he had lived, and killed, long before he was dead.

He gave a simple nod, not taking his eyes off of her for longer then need be, "they mentioned they may be willing to part with it even if it wasn't yours for that fact alone." She hadn't thought about it before, of course, but decided that this man—this strong and attractive man—deserved to have whatever she could give him to keep him around.

She wanted him and had no intentions of parting with anything without feeling him at least once.

"Then we should set up another meeting, to meet your employer." The second half of his sentence seemed to have been added as an afterthought, as if he could care less then to meet with anyone who wasn't her about the matter.

She smiled, her white teeth showing as she reached into her bag again, this time bringing out a small blue card before standing, she placed it between her fingers and reached over his desk, "call me to set it up." Her eyes looked down for a split second, noticing the bulge against his pants.

After he grabbed her card, and they're hands touched briefly, she turned and left the office and then the building.

* * *

**Google Translate helped with the Swedish, because I do not know it in the least. **

**Reviews are awesome, and greatly appreciated. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Eric**

Eric had thought of her scent for the past week, even thought about her legs smooth long legs that, with the help of her heels, seemed to go on forever. He thought of her round perky ass and even, though he would never admit it, imagined what it would feel like to push against it while she was bent over his throne.

Eric Northman had not masturbated for many centuries, there was never any need to, and in the past few years since coming out of the coffin it was never something he needed to even consider. The thought, though, of her eyes looking into his own and how they may look clouded with lust while her mouth worked on him almost dragged him to do so.

So to say that he was annoyed about the meeting being rescheduled was putting it kindly, the blonde woman—_Ren_—had been plaguing his thoughts. He had even taken to bringing blondes back to his office at night, a thing he had not done since he had his sights set on Sookie.

When he caught her scent, however faint, he didn't react. He had thought he smelled her more than a few times since she had visited his club and after the second time it hadn't been real—after walking in on Tara and his progeny—he decided not to trust such things anymore.

Then there was a knock and by the way that the person didn't wait he knew it was Pam and didn't even bother sparing her a glance. "You're meeting is here, _och__hon ser__läcker._" He still didn't look up, determined to make this person wait for changing the time and day.

Then it hit him, the scent at full force like hitting a brick wall. He noticed, then, that closer it had an undertones of water lillies and the queen of the night desert flower. He stiffened while he let it overtake him, and in a strong voice responded with "Thank you, Pam."

He heard her move and the closer she got the more he wanted to let his fangs drop and take her on his desk, mark her neck and thighs, drink from her like a screaming child. But he didn't, he pretended to be interested in his work, pretended that it was very important, but he did notice that she didn't sit down. She didn't try and start the meeting alone.

He couldn't stop himself from thinking how good of a girl she would be for him, waiting for him to take her patently. He wondered if she'd be able to stand being resigned to his bedroom, tied to his bed, for however long he wished.

When he looked up he was shocked at how calm she looked, not even the least bit annoyed with his behavior of ignoring her, but he covered it with a smirk once he saw how tight her clothes seemed to be. They where modest, of course, and a far cry from what he had seem her wear the week before but they looked like they where tailor made to fit her.

He offered her a seat, trailing off at the end and waiting for her to fill in the blank with her surname, and after she responded with 'West' and lowered herself to the chair he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her black panties.

"I would like to purchase the crown from your employer." He said as he leaned back to expose his muscular chest and broad shoulders to the women in full view, trying to gage her reaction at seeing him. While she didn't show any outward signs of attraction to him, he noticed how her bright blue eyes dilated ever so slightly at the sight.

"It was assumed as much, Mr. Northman." He liked the way she said his name, her voice like velvet and sounding composed in a way uncommon for those of her age. He didn't pay much attention to her words as he stared at her lips, shaping around them like a blanket of snow. "…more than happy to part ways with it if it is indeed yours."

When she bent to pull out a folder he could see the tops of her breasts and stopped himself, once again, from pouncing on her. Her skin looked like heated milk, smooth and opaque, he couldn't see any of her veins on her arms but could almost feel her heart moving the blood around.

Then she was handing him something, papers, and said something about what they were. He pretended to look through them, the words at the top told him it was a history of owners but he wasn't interested in who used to have it. Instead, true to his nature, he told her he remembered seeing her at the club, making it sound like a question instead of a statement.

He was surprised, but pleased, when him remembering her did not shake her. He could admire a women who was either confident enough, or stupid enough, to stare at a vampire and not look away. He could possibly respect them, even if it would be less than an once of it, if they were able to admit to it.

"Yes," her answer came almost immediately, no fear that it would be inappropriate for her to be there, or that she was in trouble to speaking about him, "my friend wished to come and asked me to join her." He understood that, most women did not come here alone, they didn't normally leave with who they showed up with, but the thought of going into the lion's den without any backup scared most women.

"It could have been," and he paused, deciding the timing was perfect and lifted his head and caught her eye and let the lust he felt fill his voice before he continued, the smirk on his face again, "dangerous."

The word came out like a purr, and for a moment he thought she might react, shiver at the thought of him and leap over the desk like a panther. She didn't. Instead she just looked at him, as if trying to decide if flirting with him was worth her wild.

Her eyes drifted over him, and when they're eyes met again she was smirking. It was a far cry from the way her smile looked on her, that lit up her eyes and made them one of the brightest blues he had ever seen. But her smirk, her smirk darkened them, made her look just as dangerous as he was.

"And this isn't, Mr. Northman?" He felt his cock twitch against his pants, it's length having been growing since her scent hit him like a freight train. She looked like a sex kitten with her eyes dark, but she sounded as innocent as a virgin. The thought excited him, he would be more than happy to teach this women things no human man could dream of.

"Oh," his lust registering in his eyes and his voice growing ever more husky, "it most certainly is." When she tilted her head to the side he had a clear view of her neck, almost daring him to prove that it was, and it became painful to hold in his fangs.

"My employer mentioned that you are the only vampire still alive that was once a Viking." His only thoughts where of conquering her, of docking himself in her thighs and not leaving until he had explored and violated every part of her.

He wasn't able to speak, so he gave her nod, the only thing keeping his fangs from retracting and his body taking over and throwing her on his desk like a fangbanger was his mouth staying closed and his teeth staying together.

"Then we should set up another meeting," he said after a moment, his voice sounded strained, but only if you knew him well enough, "to meet your employer" he added, though that was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to set up another meeting, somewhere with a bed would be preferable.

Then she smiled, her eyes lighting up, but only slightly, her own lust seeming to be leaking out. He caught the glimpses of her underwear, the tops of her breasts, and the scent of her arousal, while she bent into her bag and then stood. She handed him a business card, light blue in color, the words in gold and handed it to him. "Call me to set it up", she said as he grabbed it, his own fingers brushing against his. He didn't fail to notice how to looked down fast and was almost grateful that she missed the jerk that it caused.

He didn't say anything as she left the office, but the moment she closed his door he let his fangs drop with an audible _click_ that almost seemed to echo. He looked down at the card, "Seren West" was printed in swirling girly letters, the only other thing on the card was a number.

He planned, of course, to call her. But he planned to call her to convince her that the best thing for her to do in these troubling times would be to ride him until the sun came up. Pam walked in a few minutes later, one hand on her hip while she stood next to her maker.

"She was a morsel, wasn't she?" Pam gauged Eric's reaction, sensing his frustration. Even without the bond it was easy for her to see, his fangs out and eyes closed, taking unnecessary but calming breathes.

When he didn't say anything after a minute she tried again, worried that the women may have done something to her maker. "I wouldn't mind having a bite."

His eyes snapped to her, lust forgotten for a moment and anger replaced it, the change was quick and Pam shifted herself back half an inch as if readying herself for an attack, but he only spoke. Slow and dark, his words dripped from his lips.

"Hon är min"

**(****Hon****är min- She's mine.)**

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**Google Translate helped with the Swedish, because I do not know it in the least. **

**Reviews are awesome, and greatly appreciated. **


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